Blog

We Have Ignition

As I step into the final hours of the Sing For Your Supper Tour I would be remiss not to write and say thank you to all who came out. This has truly been one of the best road trips of my career. I can't say enough about the quality of the musicians and people out here with us for the last month. From the amazing support of everyone in the Jack's camp, to our exceptional opening acts in Vedera and Fun. It seems so appropriate that the last of the major touring on The Glass Passenger be met with a feeling of completion and peace. In many ways I have been tracking this feeling for a number of years, always with it close within reach but never fully attained. In the past 6 months, armed with the sense of closure brought about by the release of Dear Jack, I can honestly say that I feel the best that I have in my 27 years. I am so full of energy and hope for what is to come. As I have said throughout this tour, I will have the great pleasure of reuniting with my dear friends in Something Corporate. We will release a Best Of compilation this spring in addition to performing a couple of long overdue shows. This is something we've spoken of for years, but in many ways I am happy we waited. Talking to the guys, I really feel like we are all in a moment where we feel so ready to celebrate all that we accomplished as a band. The record will have a lot of classic SoCo tracks as well as an EP's worth of bonus songs. The EP will include a couple of our most popular b-sides, two remixes and two newly recorded versions of vintage Something Corporate tunes from before we were signed. I think these will be a great addition to our catalog, and I can't wait for you all to hear them. In an effort to stay truly busy, I will also be in the studio preparing Jack's Mannequin's third album. A record that in many ways has been a year in the making, but one that I am pleased to be putting together now, at this moment of perfect inspiration. It's hard to describe how good it feels to be writing the music that I hear in my head free of so much conflict and drama. I have regularly stacked the deck against myself by saying too much too soon into the recording process, but my gut tells me that this record is going to be special. I live to be in this clear head-space while I'm working, so needless to say I'm going to work as much as I can while I'm here. Sorry to go on so long, but I figure that since I'm pretty much just a tourist in this digital world, I'd get it all out while I was visiting. Be well.

Andrew

Hail Hail

This week would have been surreal just considering the company I've been lucky enough to keep, but add three mornings before sunrise and about 5000 miles in the sky and it's starting to feel like a waking dream. I'm sitting bleary-eyed on our bus in the middle of a Milwaukee freeze, flashing back to the first time I heard Pinkerton in my best friend's bedroom back in high school. It's hard to explain what it feels like to look down and know the band who authored some of my favorite songs of all time is now the name on the back of my tour laminate. To add to my luck, last night, on our day off from the Weezer tour we were invited to play a show in New York with some new heroes of mine, Phoenix. From time to time I'll go through these phases where I struggle to connect to what's coming through the pipeline of modern music. I was in one of these ruts when I first heard the Phoenix album several months back, and it was like having light turned on in a very dark room. In so many senses it was that same feeling I had back in high school listening to "El Scorcho" and "Tired of Sex" on my best friends stereo. Rock n Roll is a tricky business and in some ways you're always wondering when the train is going to come off the tracks. That said, if it all ended tomorrow I've got some pretty amazing memories and milestones to take with me, and this week is no exception.

Hail, hail Rock n Roll.

the sunset house

It's early here on the west coast
The giant sleeps
Los Angeles in an hour of deceptive calm

meditations from the road home

I am not the type of person who wears sunglasses inside, but I would like to be. I dabble in this art from when traveling by plane. I am not certain why I have chosen sky machines and airports as my exception to this unspoken rule, but I will say, unlike most people, I always look forward to flying.

I leave you with a quote from Mr. Bukowski's "portions from a wine-stained notebook"

Why do you write?

"I write as a function. Without it I would fall ill and die. It's as much a part of one as the liver or intestine, and just about as glamorous."

FOR MATT

This Saturday as I was preparing to leave for Denver and the beginning of the solo tour, I received a phone call that I had hoped I never would. Matt Cwiertney, a dear friend, and an unrelenting symbol of hope, had lost his long and hard fought battle with cancer. It is not common for me to tread such heavy ground on this page, but Matt was not just a close friend of mine, he was a champion for the causes I fight for and an inspiration to so many of my friends, family and fans. Over the course of the past year or so that we've come to know each other, Matt and his family have taught me more about perseverance, positivity and strength than I can ever put into words. In the midst of his battle, Matt's family rallied around him and the idea that something so difficult could be turned into something beautiful and positive. For two years in a row the Cwiertney family has raised 10s of thousands of dollars for the Light the Night walks in honor of Matt. As he fought for his own life, he and his family selflessly fought for so many others that were suffering. I was honored to get to spend a couple of great days with Matt over this past summer. Even as his condition became more unpredictable, he was unbelievably focused and exceedingly positive. He shot pictures in the barricade at our Orange County show with the Fray and weeks later, despite having received news that he had developed a brain tumor, our families walked side-by-side together at Light the Night. Towards the end of the walk, Matt and I got separated and were unable to say goodbye in person, a reality that leaves me with great sadness. Still, in the midst of this sadness it is impossible not to celebrate the spirit of this incredible Man. The skinny, sweet kid with a huge heart who loved music and taking pictures and just wanted to be well. As I embark on this month of shows, raising money for the Dear Jack Foundation, Matt's story gives me great pause. It is for him and for the countless others who have not been as fortunate as I have that we started the foundation. I would like to dedicate this next month of my travels to Matt and his memory as well as the incredible love and strength embodied by his family. Thank you all for taking a moment to read these words.

Vancouver: a love letter

I'm writing you from a black sand beach beneath the steep pitch of Canadian forest. I knew I needed an ocean today and I was right. As the fates would have it I found a security guard somewhere outside the tour compound, who, while performing his task virtually in vein happened to be the first of many guides on my path to a rare and excessive peace. It wasn't until I was further down the road that I found a man with a long set of locked dreads and skate board of similar length that I asked again, where I might find this beach. Before him, the path of large tress I walked along only hinted at the black a blue that stretched out below, hidden by branches, so protective and covered by leaves so green.

The love of a mother.
It was a left at the Winnebago where a man sold cold drinks and fruit when I saw the woman in the modified space suit. She wore wings and a tin foil skirt and wished me a happy moon day. I could say this was strange but it wasn't, it was right. And, as together we descended meters or inches or miles to the waters below it was clear she was only getting higher. And I suppose there's no reason she wouldn't be. I'm pretty sure this was heaven.

You Will Be Missed...

R I P M J

Slingshot

Boarding the plane today I was a head full of noise. Forced to process some everyday business disaster in the midst of what I'd intended to be a peaceful slipping away; A quiet departure from the brutal, beautiful capital of my endlessly expanding homeland. I felt myself disengage. With my thumb to the red button, pre-flight beverage in hand, and the routine safety belt check nearly completed, my digital Walkman emerged. Discretion is key in moments like this. You know what you need; you need songs. You know how quickly those songs can be taken from you if you aren't realistic about the potential dangers of rigid flight attendants. You also know how good it feels when a taxiing plane transforms into a metal-winged miracle as you, eyes closed, sit, scoring the soundtrack of your great escape. It's these moments that inspired everyday people to create moving pictures and sprawling canvases and symphonies. It's these moments where you, being entirely present for however brief a time, IS in fact, art. With the right Lens, Melody, Paint Brush, Math equation it could be defined and reproduced for all of humanity to understand. How perfect that my cautiously adorned headphones lead me not to hassle, but instead to "Us and Them". A track, that to me, largely defines the overriding theme of Pink Floyd's, Dark Side of the Moon album. Somehow, it manages to speak equally to the malaise of a morning interrupted as it does to the general state of the human condition. (At least some human's condition, I'm guessing). This is the stuff of real art and real music. Dissection. Exploration. Pop music with teeth, an experiment in human behavior and sound. What a fulfilling listen. Drifting off into the daytime, so far from my self-appointed capital, just a slingshot to the future.

A HOTEL ROOM WITH TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS

As a matter of practice for several years now I have commonly documented my day to day in a handful of forms. Obviously in songs, but also through journaling and keeping home movies as well. Its fairly rare, but sometimes I'll use garage (mac's nifty little recording program) or my cell phone answering machine to leave little audio journals, Again, these installations are usually about the mundane details of the every day. A week or two ago on a day off from the farther from earth tour I discovered this recording I made in the middle of a recent and grueling string of international tour dates. So, with a day off and an excess of time in a one motel town a cut together a loop from my garage band with the more lyrical parts of my previous rant. I liked it's bizzaro nature and how it became a little song along the way. Its nothing special but it was a fun little project and figured I might as well share it.

Be well, A.




thoughtsbanginround(vers. 2) - Andrew McMahon

A Pair of Sandals...

A pair of shoes
A pair of sunglasses
And my mind...

Things I lost on tour

Okay, maybe not my mind, but it read better that way. Thank you to everyone for making it out to the farther from earth tour. We're taking some quality memories home with us in our suitcases today. Big thanks to Matt and Erin and their bands, as well as the Low Vs. Diamond dudes. Taking a few days on a beach to decompress. When I get back Ill get some polaroids from the tour scanned in and online, if you're into that sort of thing.
Peace

Wheeling West Virginia

There was a washer and a dryer at the hotel I went down the hill to the
Spic and Span laundromat anyway
The people there were real And they photographed better
Than tourists in hilltop hotels

Hey all,
Just a little verse from a day off a couple weeks back. We're coming up on the end of the tour here and can't thank you all enough for making your way out to these shows. Also, I wanted to post a little happy birthday on to Bobby Raw. Richmond, as some of you know, has been called home by three fourths of the Jack's Mannequin band. That said, we are looking forward to celebrating the raw ones big day with all of you at The National show tomorrow.

peace A

Song For a Submarine

The Farther From Earth Tour is off to a great start. It feels like a while since I've headlined a tour this size with big production elements like the light show we're carrying. That said, we've been loving every night and cannot say enough to thank both our fans and the amazing people from the Low vs Diamond and Matt Nathanson camps. I know a blog is long overdue so I'm going to pass along some road poems and pictures in the coming weeks as well as some home movie stuff. Thanks for your patience guys.

Here's installation # 1

Song for a Submarine

Met Sorvino in the lobby with my journal
We gave the German bartender a mood ring
Her boss called almost immediately
She was a Capricorn
I was wondering what was next
Been standing on the edge of something for a while now
Its Easter in Grand Rapids
The wheat haired waitresses
Gather in the midst of madness
Wishing to hate us, only to fail
We are more honest
Then the buttoned up, family nuclear
Fresh from Sunday service.

Back at home my girl set the daffodils on fire
She didn't mean to
But I heard there are never any
Real mistakes
Most girls I know wish
They were Alice
in
wonderland
I just wish I were IN wonderland
Sometimes I think I am

40 hours 4 continents

The following was taken from a journal entry written en route from Australia to Germany. Connections included Singapore and London with a brief stay in New York prior to the beginning of the European leg of the tour.

This flight marks the beginning of a long journey. One that will span thousands of miles, nearly 40 hours and from it's inception to curtain call will have trained my feet upon the soil of four of the worlds seven continents. Soil, a term of loose substitution for the sprawling linoleum and conveyer belt walkways of an endless series of international airports. Yes, airports, a reoccurring theme in my life as well as my art. In many ways the airport is the truest touchstone for my existence thus far. At any stage it has been singularly inspiring in it's representation of pause amidst constant motion. Inasmuch it is not a shock the first true song I feel I ever wrote was about an airport. It was also about love and family and a desperation to climb higher, see farther and connect more deeply with one of the few things none of us will ever truly own. The air.

The thin air pressing down and shooting out into ether. When I was about 20 I developed a debilitating fear of flying. Where it came from I have no idea, but it shocked me as well as those who knew me best. For years, primarily in high school, before airports were houses of fear, I would drive my car there, park and file through the security line, just so I could watch the planes come in. Several years later when the fear arose it was like being robbed. Eventually, it grew, until one day it was all consuming. I had a connection in a city I have since forgotten and the perceived brutality of the previous flight buried me in my skull. I surveyed the people boarding, paralyzed and knowing that my time would soon come and that when it did I would not be getting on. The plane pulled away from the gate and as I watched it leave I knew what change was. I learned that the sweetest tastes, quickly and without justice can grow bitter. I was later coached back on a flight by a series of telephone calls to friends. Ironically, one of them was the subject of that very first airport song.

Several months later after falling ill, the plane charged with returning myself and a small group of loved ones back to California, was nearly swallowed up in the skies over Kansas. It was a perfect and unpredicted electrical storm. The kind that always made the most epic summer memories growing up in Ohio. I recall vividly as the drama settled and the wheels finally touched down, that with so much uncertainty ahead of me, one thing would be true forever. I would never again be afraid to fly. Perhaps that is an ironic or at least ignorant statement considering the words and events that inspired it. Still, part of me wants to believe that some things are unwavering, especially as it relates to the demise of fear. Like all good things, as well as bad things, though I suppose there is only fluctuation. Sometimes grand and identifiable, other times ebbing without perception to even the most informed observer. That which is bitter may one day be sweet and that which is sweet may too one day forever change. It is the willingness to acknowledge that change and how it is handled, I suppose, that defines the authenticity of any one life.

GREETINGS FROM AUSTRALIA

I am currently defying the captains orders and crafting this blog on my descent into Sydney. Our first show in Brisbane was amazing despite a long delay for technical difficulties. That said the crowd was patient, amazing and well worth the wait. We're having an incredible time out here and it's been really nice seeing old friends along the way. Sort of feels like a class reunion, getting to catch up with the new found glory and finch guys as well as our friends in the audition and say anything, etc. I've always said I do some of my best thinking in Australia and this trip is no exception. There's just something about this place that I find so peaceful and inspiring. Hope all is well back home. Also, I want to take a quick second and thank everyone for their supportive comments regarding our recent schedule changes. I am a lucky guy to have such an understanding group of fans, and we promise to put together our best shows yet for you on these upcoming tours.

IMAGINE

On this, a week of doubtless historical importance I am sure many of us are thinking about our country and our place in it more than ever. Regardless of your political beliefs it is impossible to deny the progress and significance of this moment in our history. The ramifications are astounding and I count myself lucky to be a part of a generation that appears to be waking up to the role of politics in our lives, both good and bad. That said, in the week leading up to the inauguration I found myself completely taken with John Lennon's album imagine and it's insanely famous title track. We all know it and know it well, I'm sure. I have loved this song my entire life, but when I threw this record on the other day it took on completely new meaning to me. I became obsessed, forcing everyone who entered my car to listen on repeat. The words, the simplicity, this is one of those perfect songs. It is a testament to the power of song and it's relationship with humanity. It reminds me that as overexposed as we all are these days we cannot forget the things that truly matter and govern ourselves on principal not political affiliation. Country means little when the citizenry is lost. This song helped me find myself a little bit, so I thought I would violate some copyright laws and share it with you.

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

PS- if you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire yet, do! it's heavy but a seriously radical film.

-Andrew

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